


Bet the Big One

by SandrC



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Gen, Hector is the only one who matters, The OCs are for flavor, also im so sorry for my shitty spanish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 10:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13211412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandrC/pseuds/SandrC
Summary: The Department of Family Relations had seen Héctor far too many times.So they made a game out of it.(And one day, they stopped.)





	Bet the Big One

**Author's Note:**

> I promise the OCs are just there to move the plot. They don't matter. Only Héctor matters.
> 
> (Please correct my spanish. Soy basurita. Garbage child. Traaaaash...)

The first year after Tatia Cielo dies, they learn of the List. It's no surprise to anyone who knew Tatia when they were alive that they land a job in the Department. Tatia had always been very into rules and regulations so a government job was perfect for them. Regardless, the way that the Department was when it came to Bridge Regulations was... _unusual_. The List was proof.

" _¿Qué es eso?_ " Tatia pointed to a small white notebook hanging on the wall by a tattered piece of twine. It was the week before Dia de Muertos and everyone was rushing for the work to be done. Their guide, a kindly older woman who just went by Tiá Alma, chuckled.

"The List. You'll soon figure out why, but know that this is the most fun we have _all year_." Tatia raised one brow. Tiá Alma shook her head. " _Qué será, será..._ the List is a betting pool. See, sometimes people don't get that they can't cross without _un foto_. _Sometimes_ they don't give up. Sometimes, they're _Héctor_."

"¿Héctor?"

" _Every year,_ Héctor keeps trying to cross the bridge again and again. So, to keep ourselves entertained, those in the Department like to make little bets on what he's gonna try." Tiá Alma gestured to the notebook. " _Escribamos allí_ and we collect at sunrise. So far Marta has the longest streak but who knows?" A vague shrug that Tatia interpreted as nonchalant. "Maybe you'll be lucky."

"May I?" Tatia pointed at the List. They moved to pick it up when Tiá Alma nodded affirmative.

The List was... _something_. Scribbled notes in the margins detailing winnings sprawled across more varied scripts stating the manner. Blocky print—detailing small grievances in the way that minor details are handled and so on—run perpendicular to the bets. Slowly and surely, Tatia read through some of them.

**DISFRAZAR (1:3) [PERSONAS — FAMOSO] Amilé y Paolo (y Marillo) (y Margaritue)**

_**(Nota: Hector como Pablo Picasso fue horrible. No más. No más, por favor.)** _

**PEDACITOS (1:5) Terro (y Michelle — en las bolsas, 1:10) — _¡Ella hizo trampa! Habló con Héctor y divideron premio. ¡Mierda!_**

_**(Nota: Michelle, no hablarás Héctor por favor o no puede apostar más.)** _

" _¡Oy!_ " Tatia clucked in surprise. "Very competitive."

"Not much to do. _Plus_ Héctor never ceases to amaze." Tiá Alma laughed. "Wanna take a bet?"

Tatia gave the List another look-over and nodded. "Yeah. I would."

"Gonna tell me what, _chice_? Or is it a secret?"

"You'll see. I think this will be fun." Tatia snapped the book closed and hung it back up. Then they smiled at Tiá Alma and nodded, " _¡Vamonos!_ "

" _¡Eres impaciente!_ Slow down _chice_!" But Tiá Alma marched on.

* * *

That Dia de Muertos was as fun as Tiá Alma promised. Families coming and going was fun to watch—barring the small children who shouldn't be _here_ —and more fun were those with offerings. Tatia had managed to get their visit in early in the day so they had the busy shift. That was fine; their family deadnamed them anyway and their offerings were as impersonal as their attitudes.

So it was _insane_ to think that they missed this years' attempt by the infamous Héctor. Even more insane to have a plateful of _pan dulce_  and a bottle of tequila shoved their way when the bridge closed and the sunrise spectacular ended. " _¿Qué?_ "

"The List," Michelle nodded her chin at the book on the wall. "Spot on. Nice job for a newbie."

" _¡Ey!_ It's the one who knocked Marta off her high horse! _¿Qué pasó?_ How's your relatives?!" Paolo raised a shotglass to Tatia and jerked his head at a disgruntled looking security guard who had to be Marta.

" _Pendejos, como siempre No importa._ " Tatia shrugged dismissively. "Marta, no hard feelings right?" They didn't care but interpersonal relationships in workplaces were _supposed_ to be important. It wouldn't do anyone well to ignore them. Besides, if the _pan dulce_  and tequila were anything to go by, they might _enjoy_ the List.

"How you managed to guess that he'd try to impersonate an _alabrije_ I'll _never_ know. Lost fair and square. Better than Michelle."

Michelle, mouth full of shared food, stared at Marta. " _Hey!_ I 'fessed up!"

" _After_ you were caught paying Héctor!" Marta replied and the room roared in laughter.

"Yeah _yeah_ , yuk it up." Michelle made a rude gesture. No one took it seriously. Tatia snorted.

 _Rigid enough to be comfortable,_ Tatia noted, _but just strange enough to be fun._

They might keep this job forever.

* * *

It was with a heavy heart that Tatia took the List down from its hallowed place on the Department break room wall. Head bowed, they smiled brightly and muttered, "thank you for the diversion."

If Tatia had been told that, one day, Héctor would be crossing the bridge _legally_ , they would've beaten the liar senseless. However it wasn't a lie; Héctor— _lo siento, fue una mentira_ —Rivera was on someone's _ofrenda_. The _ofrenda_ of the same family that _banned_ music. The _ofrenda_ that belonged to the _infamous_ clan of shoemakers.

The _ofrenda_ of the man who was humble and broken and _finally_ found his home.

 _This year,_ they thought, _I think I'll try and persuade Héctor into coming by my line. I need to thank him for the gallos incident. Best night of my life._

But betting or not, it was _far_ nicer to see Héctor happy than it was to see him fail.

And wishing him  _un buen día de muertos_ felt just so good.

(But they owed him a dozen _pan dulce_  one day. Ten year streak. What a _delight_.)


End file.
